


Pain Vs Pleasure

by Nulara



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alec Lightwood Deserves Nice Things, Alec Lightwood Loves Magnus Bane, Anal Sex, BAMF Alec Lightwood, BAMF Magnus Bane, Bottom Alec Lightwood, Boys In Love, Dubious Consent, Eventual Smut, Falling In Love, Frottage, Gay Sex, Hurt Alec Lightwood, Interrogation, M/M, Magnus Bane Loves Alec Lightwood, ON HIATUS FOR REWRITE, Oral Sex, Physical Abuse, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Protective Magnus Bane, Sassy Alec Lightwood, Semi-Public Sex, Sex, Sex Magic, Top Magnus Bane, Torture, Virgin Alec Lightwood, Voice Kink, somewhat of a plot if you squint, werewolf lackeys, werewolf thugs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 03:20:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29271645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nulara/pseuds/Nulara
Summary: The Shadow World is in chaos, Valentine is on the rise - ready to destroy and wipe out all demons and all demon-blooded Downworlders among them. Times are exceedingly desperate, they could all die at any moment if Valentine gets the Mortal Cup. The Downworld needs answers, and some are willing to go to extreme lengths to get those answers. Alec Lightwood is captured and tortured by a couple of werewolves for information about Valentine; his plans, his potential whereabouts, but he will never break. Enter a devastatingly handsome glittering Warlock with a voice like honeyed wine and incredibly talented hands.... Alec may just find himself unable to keep either his words or his hands to himself for much longer.... This is a whole new kind of torture, and he is NOT prepared for it.Explicit violence/physical abuse in the first chapter. Mostly smut. Eventual serious smut.
Relationships: Magnus Bane & Alec Lightwood, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 9
Kudos: 86





	1. You Can Beat Me Down, Break Me, But I'll Never Talk

Alec's head rang with a high pitched deadline note as strike after strike of solid, blunt, knuckles pummelled relentlessly down upon his face repeatedly.

Two irate, tight-jawed and red-faced werewolves loomed over him menacingly. Their muscles quivering from exertion. Clearly more brawn than any brain between them. Alec's vision was blurred from sweat and bruise swollen skin; the tang and thick liquid feel of fresh blood pooling across his tongue, flowing over his lips and dripping down the front of his dark grey shirt. He licked his swollen, busted-up lips, coating them in a mix of his own blood and spit, turned his head to the side in the limited range of movement he was granted, and spat the foul contents of his mouth out onto the ugly and stained concrete floor. He drew in a large shuddering breath to fill his aching lungs with enough oxygen to sustain him through the next onslaught of physical aggression. His arms were painfully strained and taut behind him, so tightly bound that his sore shoulders and back protested harshly against the hard press of the uncomfortable metal chair he was tied to. He would have been concerned that his circulation would be non-existent from the ties alone, had he not been currently so preoccupied with his blood being punched right out of him.

This interrogation had been going on for days now. It had become a routine of sorts, the only change to his days was the method of 'information extraction' for each day. First it had been merely talk; 'bargaining'. Then it had upgraded to verbal threats to himself, his family, his people. A pretty standard chewing out for Intel; Alec was almost insulted for such basic attempts. But then these guys had started to up their game exponentially as it became abundantly clear that Alec was never going to be easy to break. This is when the _real fun_ had started. Submersion of his head into ice-cold water until his lungs were screaming in pain for the desperation of oxygen, his skin stinging and prickling from the harsh temperature changes. The breaking of his fingers one by one, forcibly healed by an Iratze from Alec's own hand as a gun was held to his head, only to be broken again; rinse, repeat. Electrical currents run through him, progressively getting higher voltage until he passed out from the agony.

But Alec had never broken, not once. Not a word, not even his own name, had passed his lips other than punched-out profanity in response to unbearable pain. The defiant spark and murderous daggers thrown from his darkened hazel eyes spoke far louder than actual words ever had in his time here; and now these guys were getting frustrated and desperate. Clearly their boss, whoever they were, was getting impatient, and it wouldn't be long before these lackeys would bear the brunt of an interrogation far worse than Alec's.

The room had gone silent, the abuse thankfully ceased for now, the only sounds harsh ragged breathing from all three men; two from the effort, one from the assault. All were exhausted and near breaking point, but Alec's conviction to remain impassive and silent held on with an incredibly stubborn steel-like grip. He almost cracked a smug grin but the action would have caused further discomfort to his already extremely tender face.

The silence was broken by a sultry honey-soaked, yet bored, voice crackling over the grime and dust crusted speakers embedded into the white-washed ceiling.

"That's enough fun for today gentlemen. You're all tired, and even _I'm exhausted_ from watching this shoddy display of so-called competency. If you haven't gotten anything out of him through brute force by now, clearly he isn't going to talk. Go home, and get out of my sight, before I lose my patience with the both of you even further."

The tannoy screeched and cut out as the man on the other end ended his scathing speech . The werewolves looked at each other nervously, clearly terrified of what would happen if their boss were to lose his patience entirely. They scowled accusingly at Alec, who met their eyes with a challenging level stare back at them daring them to do any more damage to him, then they made their move to retreat from the room. But just as one of them clasped his meaty paw around the metal handle of the mark scuffed door the tannoy jolted to life again;

"...and would _someone_ please throw this Nephilim bastard his stele before you leave? His blood is messing up my floor... Plus, I'd like to look at something pretty in this _ghastly_ shit-hole you refer to as your 'workspace'."

Another screech and the mystery man's smooth-as -syrup voice was gone. Alec apparently had enough blood left in his body to blush, stunned and appalled at the realisation that he found himself a little flattered that this invisible man, with the voice that _did things_ to him, had called him 'pretty'. He baulked, scolding himself severely for reacting so ridiculously in the midst of this brutal and abusive situation he was currently suffering.

_'What the_ fuck _Lightwood?! How desperate and starved for attention do you have to be to react like that to your captor?'_ Alec thought angrily and ashamedly at himself.

Alec partially blamed that _goddamn_ voice. There was just something in that voice that made his insides roil, and not unpleasantly. Not at all. He had only heard it a handful of times over the speakers, and he had never seen the man it belonged to, but every time it had struck him a little dumb with arousal. It was just so suave, sophisticated sounding, authoritative, and it was simply _dripping_ with sex appeal. Alec had never known that someone's voice could be considered attractive and sexy, but here he was, squirming a little in his seat at the sound of it.

Thank God the chair he was bound to was ridiculously uncomfortable, it gave Alec an excuse to blame his discomfort on more unpleasant things, and remain burrowed in his lifetime built safe haven of heavily-leaned-upon denial. He was NOT attracted to men, he most certainly was NOT attracted to his captor that he had never even laid eyes on. Nope. Nope. NOPE. That would be absurd and wrong; so, very, _very_ wrong.

Alec took a deep heaving breathe to steady himself from his perverse tangent of thoughts and blamed his abusive situation from addling his normally so in control mind. He caught the movements of one of the werewolves from the corner of his eye and snapped his attention back to them, hackles rising, preparing for more pain. But the one closest to the door simply took Alec's stele out of his back of his jeans pocket and threw it in Alec's general direction. Snickering between them when the stele fell a few inches short of Alec being able to get to it with his bare foot. Not that he could heal himself anyway with his hands tied, but they clearly were in no mind to untie him despite the miserable state he looked. Alec was sure they told themselves that they left him tied because they enjoyed his struggling. But more than likely they were simply more nervous at the thought of untying Alec when they feared what a Nephilim could still do to them even when beaten down so badly.

Alec scowled dangerously and bore his teeth at them, a clear sign to werewolves of aggression and a promise of revenge. Although they still laughed at him, they hastily retreated from the room with a glimmer of trepidation in their eyes, not looking back at him as they slammed the door behind them. Alec felt a small sputtering flame of pride crackle up in his chest at knowing they still feared him, it gave him back control in an uncontrollable situation.

With the werewolves now gone, the room was deafeningly quiet, and nothing could now take his mind off the throbbing pain in his face and all across his long lithe body. He was sure he had a cracked rib somewhere as the right side of his muscular torso panged consistently, his breathes only able to remain shallow, and as he ran his pink tongue over his lips to moisten them he winced at the sharp sting as he made contact with the split open wound he forgot must be there. He was sure he looked a god-awful pitiful mess right now.

Alec resigned himself for staying in this pained and sad state. Stuck in this horrifically bad chair for the night, until they came back tomorrow, for yet another day of punishment to his body. He didn't even bother trying to reach for his stele, there was no point and he knew it. Perhaps they would allow him to use it in the morning.

With that afterthought he attempted to close his swollen, black-rimmed and bruised eyes. Settling into a restless, broken, sleep. Unaware that he was being watched closely on the other side of the one way mirror in front of him by a pair of yellow-green glowing cat eyes.


	2. At War With a Madman, and With Myself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magnus considers his recent decisions made for the sake of the safety of his people and finds himself still choked-up with regret. He can't take watching anyone be hurt regardless of the cause/reason, least of all this mystery Nephilim, and he has the power to stop it... No more.

Magnus Bane was not, by nature, a violent person.

Not truly. Regardless of what people thought they knew of, (and whispered amongst themselves about), his 'royal' demon parentage. He utterly loathed torture and seeing injustice of any kind done towards others. It was an ugly, disgusting thing to him. It made him internally shake with shame and nausea down to his very core. He hated when he had to play the role of a dangerous, all-powerful-authority-figure, who was not to be messed with. Unfortunately, the need for this persona was necessary for the protection of his people, more often than not. Particularly these days as the threat to all Downworlders became more severe and desperate by the hour, with Valentine on the rise again, seeking the Mortal Cup that would destroy them all in one devastating moment.

Suffice to say Magnus was mistrustful of the Nephilim as a whole also, despite their attempts to stop Valentine and his allies. It was not done to protect Downworlders lives. Certainly not from a standpoint of basic human justice and decency, to not let multiple races of people die; particularly by the hand of a madman. No; Magnus was under no pretences to think that the half-angels would think so selflessly despite _their_ heritage. Magnus knew very well that the Downworlders were protected by the Shadowhunters because they were _useful_ , and possessed powers the Nephilim did not. They looked after their own, as many races did Magnus supposed, but treated the Downworld with cold distain and a righteous superiority over them. Holier than thou, _indeed._

However, this particular raven haired, _dreamily_ hazel eyed, Nephilim that he had caught in up in his web was strange to him. _Different_ , somehow. He did not carry the same haughty air that most, if not all, other Nephilim had built into their very DNA. Almost the opposite in fact. He seemed self-deprecating, shy, restrained, _innocent_ even, in a way that you would not expect of a warrior race. In a way Magnus had never seen before. The sheer thought of finding something new to discover about the Nephilim, hell, something new about _anything_ that he had not heard or seen before, was a heady and desirable thing to Magnus as a centuries-old Warlock.

He hated the fact that this beautiful boy ( and _God_ was he beautiful ) was here by mere random selection. He hated the fact that any Nephilim, or any _person_ for that matter, was here at all by his own command. His own doing. But he knew he needed information about Valentine and the Mortal Cup _. Desperately_ , for the sake of his people. So, he'd let the werewolves convince him to help capture one of the angel-blooded for answers. Logically, _surely_ , they would be the ones most likely to have more Intel on Valentine's movements and plans than anyone else. They were essentially the Police/FBI/CIA of the Shadow World all rolled into one. If you needed to know about any Shadow World criminal, or any demon activity, the Shadowhunters were the leading authority; and they had the most up-to-date knowledge of anyone. It made a twisted sort of sense that pushing a Nephilim for answers about Valentine and the Cup would be more lucrative and faster than any other means of gaining information than they had at present.

Magnus had _very_ reluctantly allowed the Werewolves to perform their more, 'unsavory', methods of information extraction from the black-haired beauty before him when it became clear simply grilling him for answers was not going to get them anywhere. Magnus forced himself to watch every heinous moment of it. If he was allowing this despicable thing to happen, he was going to give himself the punishment of seeing what his agreement had led to with his own eyes.

Although Magnus saw everything, he did not allow the Nephilim or these werewolf thugs, to see _him_. He watched on, hidden behind the one-way mirror that opened onto the interrogation room. He did this partly because he selfishly did not want the Shadowhunter to look at him with those wide doe-eyes he had asking him; " _Why? Why are you letting them do this to me_?". The other reason was that he would never let _anyone_ see the unstoppable tears that ran silently down his face at the sight of all that pain, all that damage, being caused. Particularly to a face and body he found so incredibly beautiful it almost hurt Magnus's eyes to look upon him directly. It was so wrong to see and it tore at Magnus' heart. But he would not do the Shadowhunter injustice by looking away from the more-than distasteful scene.

It had been days of this and it was clear that this Shadowhunter, who was still nameless to him, was ever going to talk this way. Magnus felt a strange awe fuelled pride and blossoming respect towards him for that. The man had born all that agony and abuse with such grace in a situation that was entirely graceless. The strength of his will, his conviction to remain stoic and silent - thus protecting his people and their knowledge - was frankly inspiring. 

Magnus had, had enough of it; as he was absolutely certain the Nephilim would have had enough too. He put on a good show of being the bored, disappointed, and fear-inducing boss to keep the werewolves in check . Ensuring they remained unsuspicious of his true feelings towards the matter. He was by no means sadistic or evil, he would not use his magic against them unless in defence, but they didn't need to know that, and that worked for him just fine. He had an image to uphold after all if he was to remain in charge and in control of not only this situation, but of the Downworld with its collectively unruly and volatile nature. He did not get to where he was today, to see his people crumble under the weight of their own impatience and passion, if he slipped in his control of the precarious peace he instilled between them.

Magnus brought himself out of his dark musings and looked back to the helplessly bound Shadowhunter. His heart completely broke for him. He dragged his eyes over his impressive form, decidedly less than impressive now from all the injuries he had acquired. He took in the swollen closed black-eyes, the split lip, the hunched over spine that looked like the Nephilim was trying to cradle his own body against the pain, the stele left untouched on the floor in front of him - no doubt almost mocking him - as it was out of reach. _God_ , the poor boy was even trying to sleep in such a state. Clearly he thought that he would need to do so somehow, even in his current predicament on that goddamn chair, with the threat of more suffering to come the next day.

An hour must have passed as Magnus stared unrelentingly at the Shadowhunter, punishing himself internally again, until he resolutely muttered under his breath;

"No more."

He would not allow this to continue, it had already gone too far when it had started at all. He wasn't going to be the 'good cop' to the werewolves 'bad cop' exactly, it was not necessarily his intention to manipulate the Shadowhunter. He simply knew their tack had to change to gain information and he would not let this poor man suffer any longer. He did not deserve it in the slightest, and Magnus would be no better than the half-angels who treated him less-than-poorly if he would keep on allowing this unforgiveable torture. 

With this decision firmly made, he proceeded to open the door that led to the interrogation room and finally stepped out from behind the mirror, allowing the gorgeous but bloodied Nephilim to see him for the first time.


	3. A Fast Descent into Chaos and Chaotically Falling Fast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Malec meet for the first time and are mystified and mesmerised by each other. Difficult conversations are had and bad situations are addressed. But Magnus cannot just let Alec go, in more ways than one. But he may be able to continue to help his people whilst protecting Alec from pain. He may not, however, necessarily cease trying to gain information from him. The method of so called 'torture' has just been changed, but he won't push Alec into something he doesn't want. 
> 
> References to sexual content. Consent is sexy. 
> 
> Fear not real smut is on its way soon XD

Alec reckoned he got about two hours sleep tops before his warrior instincts woke him up in alert just before the fear-inducing sound of the door being opened came. He swore he was almost developing a Pavlovian response to the sound of that damn door, which he supposed was to be expected.

What he did _not_ expect was to see that door open up to reveal the most stunningly beautiful man Alec had ever seen in his entire life. He looked _unreal_. Untameable. Like...Like...what were the lyrics in that song Izzy liked?...' _Like a nightmare dressed like a daydream'_. Although Alec knew he never wanted to wake up nightmare or no.

Alec took him in slowly, he was a simple man, he could only process so much beauty at once.

The man's hair was midnight black, spiked up in a mo-hawk that on anyone else would have looked excessive but fit effortlessly and gorgeously on him. The cut of the man's tight fitting, but tailored clothes revealed and accentuated an impossibly sculpted chest. Alec could clearly see miles of honey coloured sun-kissed skin, that looked so satin-soft and smooth it made his hands ache desperately to touch it. His Asian bearing and the bold, heavy smoke and glitter make-up he wore made him look positively regal. His ethereal golden-green cat eyes were gorgeous and otherworldly, heightened to full effect by the dark black kohl surrounding them... If Alec had not been so awe-struck he would have noticed the deep-rooted regret and guilt darkening those eyes.

The beautiful Warlock made Alec feel a warm thrill spark upwards uncontrollably in his chest like a firework, raining down and dispersing slowly, inevitably, all the way over his body from his scalp to the tips of his toes. Alec forgot to be afraid in the presence of this dazzling man, he forgot he wasn't supposed to find men alluring, he forgot his pain; he forgot everything else in that moment. Nothing else existed for Alec when this man walked into the room. He suspected that most people felt this way when this gorgeous Warlock walked into a room _anywhere_. His presence was like the moon and the stars - sparkling, beautiful, coolly distant and untouchable yet enchanting all the same.

He exuded an effortless grace of movement with every step he took towards Alec. So lyrical, so precise and full of intent that it put the Shadowhunter's agility that he prided himself on to shame.

"Holy Mother of _God_ , you're beautiful ," Alec blurted out, unaware that he had done so. His mind unable to filter itself or come up with anything more eloquent. 

The shiningly radiant Warlock stopped his movements abruptly in surprise and blushed a little with pleasure at the words that tumbled unbidden from Alec's lips. He recovered quickly however, and threw a glittering smile at Alec that knocked the wind (and quite frankly the 'straight') right out of him, but in a far more delightful way than he had been experiencing of late.

"Why, thank you, Angel boy... Quite the charmer aren't you? Though I suspect you're more 'Prince Sincere' than 'Prince Charming'... I _like_ that." 

The Warlock preened, smirking amusedly, flirtatiously... _distractingly_... at Alec. _God_ , he looked like he wanted to _devour_ Alec...And Raziel help him Alec might just let him.

"Shit! I said that out loud?!"

Alec tasted the tart embarrassment on his tongue as he realised in horror what he had inadvertently said. Blatantly admitting his attraction to the pretty Warlock.

The Warlock threw his head back and laughed musically at Alec's bluntness and honest horror on his beautiful but bruised face. Alec was enchanted by the sound of that laugh, so masculine yet it held an almost childlike delight. The sight of him laughing, to see him so beautifully unguarded, almost had Alec swoon. 

"Pretty, _pretty_ , Warlock... _Oh So,_ Pretty" Alec's brain unhelpfully supplied. Thankfully _internally_ this time.

The Warlock graciously took pity on Alec's clear embarrassment and stopped looking at him directly with those intense cat-eyes, the flirtatious flame in them dimming to a simmer. He had clearly noted Alec's charmingly flaming cheeks, his downturned eyes, his shoulders hunching as if to hide inside himself. He also noticed that this movement had inadvertently caused Alec to curl in on his sore ribs eliciting a sharp wince from him.

Alec noticed with surprise the guilt and remorse in his eyes this time, and quirked his head to the side in confusion. Why was this beautiful man looking so sad? It made his heart clench uncomfortably to see it, wanting nothing more than to take that sadness away from him. 

But the Warlock seemed to recover quickly and took the last few calculated steps towards Alec, stuck to his chair, unable to move away from him even if he tried; not that he wanted to.

"You did indeed, Gorgeous. I should thank you for your candour. But first, how about I go and heal these ghastly injuries first, hmm?"

The Warlock then breathed out a sad sigh as he looked upon Alec's swollen face, his delicate brows knitted together in concern and regret.

"I am sorry, Darling. To see such a excruciatingly beautiful face marred in such a way, it truly is a travesty."

As the Warlock spoke in a gentle whisper he ran the backs of his index and middle fingers in a slow soft line from the base of Alec's chin along his jaw line and up towards his left ear, backing up the words that had felt like a caress with the physical touch of one. It made Alec's breath catch in his throat, his body shiver visibly with pleasure. Feeling that warm skin - as soft as he imagined it would be, if not more so - in contrast to the cool rings the Warlock wore was blowing Alec's mind a little, making his tongue inoperable. Alec's skin prickled under that gentle touch and the ghost of the sensation remained even when the beautiful Warlock had removed his hand from Alec's injured face.

Then out of the corner of Alec's eye as he stared up at the man, unable to look away from him, he saw a flicker of blue smoke flow from the Warlock's fingers. He lifted his arm so that his hand hovered a few inches above Alec's face, undulating and dancing with the magic that curled around those elegant fingers. Alec noticed for the first time that the man's nails were painted black. They had a hint of shining glitter that twinkled under the ugly box lights on the ceiling, making a beautiful image in a hideous place. Those nails looked spectacular when twinned with the cobalt blue magic. Alec felt somewhat faintly amused at the fact the Warlock probably knew that and painted his nails partly for this reason.

He watched as the Warlock's face contorted in concentration, running his hand down over Alec's body without touching him, the movements followed by his beautiful blue magic, like an extension of himself reaching out to Alec and correcting all the wrongs that had been done to his body over the last few days. Alec felt the constant throb of pain ebb completely, his vision became clearer as the swelling of his face drained away as if it had never been there. He felt a sudden shock of agony at his side and then it was gone entirely - the rib bone clearly having been set back into its correct place and mended. Alec had broken too many bones to count, he was well acquainted with the feeling of a bone resetting. With the pain gone and his rib magically mended he felt like he could breathe normally again and took full advantage of that, filling his lungs to a fuller capacity than he had been able to for days.

Alec smiled softly and looked gratefully up at the Warlock, who smiled indulgently and warmly back at him, appearing pleased that the Shadowhunter was fixed up and seemed much happier.

"There, that's better isn't it?" Spoke the Warlock in a husky and almost tender tone. His voice sounding like _that_ made Alec's mouth go dry and he felt that warmth he had experienced earlier sizzle within the veins underneath his skin.

"Thank you," Alec managed to force roughly out of his un-cooperating mouth.

"You're welcome, Handsome." The Warlock drawled flirtatiously; he then appeared to consider something for a moment, "Just, one more thing."

Suddenly at the snap of the Warlocks fingers Alec found himself nestled into a wonderfully plush, emerald green, wide seated armchair that was far larger than was necessary to accommodate even Alec's exceedingly long figure. It felt so decadent and luxuriously comfortable in contrast to the harshness of the metal chair he'd been plastered to that he almost purred out loud in contentment. He realised his hands were no longer bound behind him by the chafing ropes that had cut into the delicate pale skin at his wrists. The marks and burns from those had disappeared too. He was struck by a sudden alarming rush of affection and gratitude towards the Warlock. He felt like he was being taken such sweet care of, it made him feel almost treasured... and he liked that feeling a whole lot more than he thought he should.

Now that he had a freedom of movement that was, well... liberating, he rolled his no longer sore shoulders and arms around himself to make the most of it. He was a Shadowhunter, staying still was not in his nature. However, he realised that although he could move his arms apparently almost anywhere he wanted to, he couldn't move them higher than his shoulders, restricting him from being able to lift his arms above his head or stand up despite not being bound anymore. Then he noticed with a rising suspicion that a hint of blue magic shone around his wrists still. Anchoring him to the floor on either side of the armchair; clearly he was still considered either dangerous, useful or both and he was not going to be released yet. That made his previous comfort and feeling of ease steadily evaporate, as he realised that kindness or no, he was still a captive here.

The Warlock was clearly a part of all this, Alec noted, now that he had gotten some of his faculties back after the reeling experience of seeing this stunning man before him for the first time. That realisation made him feel uneasy again, the hairs on the back of his neck warning that he was not out of danger yet.

His thoughts and emotions still not quite in check Alec thought unhelpfully to himself that at least the cool swirling magic felt sort of nice and unobtrusive to his senses compared to those god awful ropes. It also made his lower body squirm in that less than unpleasant way at the display of the Warlock's impressive power that could easily hold him down with all his Angelic strength. 

" _Not. Helpful. Alec_!" He scolded himself internally once again. He cursed himself for being so stupid and taken in by the handsome Warlock. It had probably been a trick all along to make him loosen up and start talking.

The way he had just blurted out his immediate thoughts to this man whilst he was still in this hostile situation was so unlike Alec. Damn, this man was good, his magic must be so powerful to manipulate his emotions and mind like that without him even noticing. Making him feel things he'd never felt before. Alec felt thoroughly seduced and felt the shame that twinned with it; he was supposed to be an unflappable warrior, and up until this point he had been. He had taken every punch, every agonising punishment to his body and not broken once. Then this Warlock had burst in and dazzled him, made him forget everything else but _him_ ; and all the man had really done was look pretty, heal him, make him comfortable, and spoken to him in that... _Urgh, Fuck_...that _voice_ that washed over him like cool water on a hot summers day.

Alec was abruptly struck by the realisation that he _recognised_ that sultry voice, it had simultaneously been driving him wild, and was the only thing calming his soul through this entire hellish ordeal.

Alec furrowed his brow in sudden frustration and anger. The Warlock seemed to notice his sudden change of demeanour as a steely facade covered up his features, hiding any emotion he had been displaying moments ago. _'Jeez this man really was good at this'_. He had taken a step back as if he was preparing for the words that were about to come from Alec like a physical blow.

"Hold on a second, that _voice_. You're the boss of those werewolf thugs aren't you? _You're_ the reason I'm here at all, getting tortured day in day out!...What the hell do you think you're playing at? Coming in here and flirting with me, _healing_ me, taking care of me like you're _not_ some sadistic fuck? Are you insane?!... You must be, only a psychopath could fake emotions and sincerity that well. I'm such an idiot for falling for it! ...What did I ever do to you to earn this torture you had me put through? Who _are_ you?"

A nasty tension filled the air as Alec threw his accusations, which unfortunately were (mostly) well founded.

The beautiful Warlock took a deep breath, apparently steeling himself for an explanation and, unbeknownst to Alec, covering his own heart from the hurt and hate flashing in the Shadowhunter's eyes .

"I am Magnus Bane; the High Warlock of Brooklyn...And no, you haven't done anything to me. Even if you had it wouldn't warrant such treatment, and for that I can only apologise... You were selected at random at a time when a group of high profile Nephilim were rumoured to be gathered together at the New York Institute to discuss Valentine. You were taken, because you were able to be snatched up by the werewolves as soon as the meeting broke up, whilst you were outside carrying out whatever orders you had been given. You were chosen because out of every Shadowhunter there that day you were the quietest. The one who drew the least attention to themselves, therefore the least likely to be noticed that you were taken until it was too late."

Alec simply blinked at the Warlock; at Magnus Bane. So if Magnus was to be believed - and he still wasn't so sure that he should be - this was clearly not a vendetta against his family like he had thought over the last few days, when he had been trying to decipher why _he_ out of all Nephilim would have been chosen to kidnap. It made more sense to him now, he knew he wasn't particularly important or indispensible compared to other Nephilim, he'd made his peace with that when he was younger. However, it still stung him a little to think he was so unnoticeable simply because he didn't shout out his own self importance, because he wasn't arrogant as some Nephilim tended to be, full of righteous angelic fury as they were. Alec's angelic power and fury simply ran cooler than most.

It was as if Magnus had read his thoughts as he spoke through Alec's deep-in-thought fogged mind. - Perhaps he _had_ ; he didn't know anymore.

"For the record Pretty Boy, it is an absolute breath of fresh air to find a non-arrogant and somewhat reasonable Shadowhunter such as yourself...Also, it helps that you are without a doubt the most beautiful creature in their ranks that I have ever laid eyes upon."

Alec, stunned, met Magnus' cat eyes and blushed prettily pink all the way up from his muscled chest to the roots of his hair, jaw slackened in shock at the unfathomable compliment he'd just received from the most beautiful being _he_ had ever seen. It was like the feeling you got when you saw a Great Dane and a Chihuahua next to each other and tried to remember that they were the same species, and came from the same ancestral animal. It just seemed impossible. 

Magnus dared to take a hesitant step closer to Alec in his current stupor, playing with the glittering rings on his hands in a nervous and grounding gesture. Alec tensed again as he did so, warring with himself internally over the sincerity he could feel was in Magnus, and the fact that this could all be an _incredibly_ well acted trick to get him to talk.

"And, uh...not that it counts for much, but the torture was 100% _not_ my idea, and I _strongly_ advised against it."

Alec snapped out of his daze at that, his internal Sass meter reaching max capacity and exploding as he replied mockingly;

"Right, you're such a freaking _Saint_ for 'advising against' my torture. Am I supposed to believe you? The man who might not have _suggested_ torture, but allowed it to happen all the same. You're _unbelievable_! Also, how _dare you_ pretend to be kind to me after all the hell I went through, that I'm still going through being a captive here. You still kidnapped me, Magnus. Let's not pretend that you're the good guy here."

Magnus felt the hatred at himself and the staggering guilt bubble up inside him like lava, his words bursting from him like a volcano as he snapped back at Alec.

"Perhaps if you had given the Werewolves _something_ to work with maybe they would not have gone as far as they did. _Stubborn Nephilim_. You didn't have to give it _all_ away, just a few slivers of information that could have helped us. Given us an edge over Valentine to protect our own people. That's all we wanted!"

Magnus cursed himself. He knew what he'd just said wasn't fair at all to this poor beautiful boy, his emotions had gotten in the way of sense. But the words were out now of his mouth now and he couldn't take them back.

"Are you seriously trying to tell me it's _my fault_ that I got _tortured_?!" Alec spat back incredulously.

" _No_! of course I'm not! I just .. I _just_ \- Arrgh!"

Magnus sighed out in frustration, burying his face in his hands exasperatedly, emotionally exhausted, visibly shaking in anguish. _'What a mess this all is_ ' he thought. Pained that this beautiful, sweet, uncharacteristically shy Nephilim hated him; and unfortunately for perfectly good reason too. 

Alec paused in surprise at Magnus' clear distress, hating that he felt concern stir in him for this man. He observed Magnus for a few long minutes as the tension gave way to some sort of strange, unspoken truce.

Alec decided to swallow his hurt pride for a moment. He leaned forward in his plush armchair, reaching out to Magnus tentatively with his right hand. His long fingers softly, barely, touching Magnus above his knee, drawing his attention, and getting him to remove his bejewelled hands from his impossibly perfect face.

Alec asked in a softly rasping and encouraging tone, so as not to break the peacefully quiet lull they had fallen into, "Magnus...If help and protection from Valentine was all you wanted then why the hell didn't you just _ask_ and go through the proper channels? Why go through all this at all? Why put _me_ through all of this? The Nephilim would have protected you if you asked."

"Are YOU serious?" Magnus laughed mirthlessly and roared back with a sudden alarming desperation and heart wrenching sadness in his normally so suave voice.

"The Nephilim help no-one but themselves. They use the Downworlders and their gifts to their own benefit, for their own gain, and then you toss us aside once you're done with us. And you have the _audacity_ to tell us that _we_ are the barbaric races? A Nephilim would much sooner condemn and kill a Downworlder than to help or protect them, regardless of mutual interests. Don't lie to me or pretend that, that isn't the truth of it."

Alec remained silent, unmoving, the impassioned words falling in quick succession from the beautiful Warlock. His cat eyes shining, the slitted pupils contracting tighter in his anger, a sheen of tears building up but refusing to fall, making those eyes look even brighter than before. Magnus looked celestial; cosmically strong yet heartbreakingly vulnerable. The sight rendered Alec speechless.

Magnus sighed, resigned, a short agitated burst of air rushing out through his nose as he exhaled. He proceeded more calmly knowing that anger and aggression got them both nowhere.

"I apologise for my outburst, and for everything else about this whole fucked up mess... But, Darling, you must understand that we are all desperate to protect ourselves. Our lives, our _children's_ lives, are at stake. Going through the proper channels takes far too long, even if the Shadowhunters took us seriously and acted as soon as they could. Valentine is on the move, he is close to getting the Mortal Cup, we can _all_ feel it. If we don't find out any information that could save us soon, more and more innocent Downworlders will die until there's none of us left...and wouldn't _that_ be a delight to most Nephilim."

Magnus spoke the latter with a bitter malice coating his tongue, poisoning his thoughts once more before he brought himself back from the darkness inside.

"I'm sorry Magnus... That my people have treated you so poorly in the past," Alec spoke barely above a whisper but Magnus heard it as if he's shouted at him.

Magnus' mind halted with a screech. His gaze snapping up to hold Alec's, hazel tinged with green, piercing with their sincerity and shockingly displaying something akin to sympathy. He'd never seen a Shadowhunter look such a way, certainly not at a Downworlder; certainly never at him.

_'My God who is this unbelievable Nephilim_?' Thought Magnus, not for the first time about this impeccably sweet man. Here he was, post-torture, still technically a hostage, and the Shadowhunter was apologising to _him_ for all the ill treatment his angel-blooded people had dealt Magnus. Despite the fact that Magnus had agreed with the Werewolves to hurt _him_ in just the same way if not worse. Regardless of the fact that Magnus felt impossibly guilty about it in a way the Nephilim would not have; they wouldn't have given it a second thought thinking it was their Angel-given right to do so. Not that, that made these actions any more justifiable, it didn't, not at all.

But unfortunately his guilt and personal regret also did not change the fact that Magnus still needed to think about the needs of his people. He liked this Nephilm, _very_ much, much more then he should or ever thought he _could_ like a Nephilim. But he also loved his people... his _children_. He could not fail them, not now, not ever. He would not let them die for the sake of his own selfish feelings. He needed information, and although he would no longer allow this Shadowhunter to be hurt to get it, he was still going to extract it from him somehow in a way that would neither harm him, nor hurt Magnus' aching heart over it.

"I'm sorry too, darling. For everything... But I...I still can't let you leave just yet, no matter how much I want to end this whole awful charade. My people come first, and I know you still have information I need to protect them."

Alec removed his hand from Magnus like he had been burned, almost forgetting it was still there. He leaned back against the armchair, defeated, looking up utterly dismayed at Magnus. He berated himself for thinking that they had been getting somewhere, that they were going to reach an understanding. Apparently not. Despite Magnus appearing sincere, he was not going to let him go. God knows what he'd do to him now.

Magnus's suave, charming mask and sultry, honey-sweet, voice were back in place faster than Alec could blink, so fast it almost gave him whiplash. As if the last few minutes of their raw, honest conversation hadn't happened at all. It was almost unnerving.

"So?...Are you going to help me Nephilim? Or do I need to _loosen you up_ a little bit first?"

Alec looked up at Magnus again in wary surprise, a thick perfectly curved eyebrow raising up in response, unsure of where this was going or what Magnus meant. He answered cautiously but with conviction.

"Magnus, you know I can't. I have people to protect too. My _family_. If I give you anything they could get hurt, and not just by Valentine, by the Clave too. If I give up information to the Downworld that could jeopardise our search and capture of Valentine and the security of the Mortal Cup, my whole family will be punished, not just me. _That_ I could handle. But I won't see my family harmed, and certainly not because of me and my inability to protect them."

Alec saw a warm, touched, understanding look flash in Magnus' eyes before it vanished again.

"Well, my Darling. If you can't tell me anything at least we can have a little, _fun_ , together in the meantime. They're going to start looking for you eventually aren't they? Perhaps they will come to me more willingly with what I want. Give me the information I need in exchange for you."

" _Although_..." 

Magnus' hummed low in lustful approval as his eyes proceeded to run shamelessly over the Shadowhunter's _glorious_ body. From his long muscle toned legs that went on for days, to his _Godly_ torso. Those taut swoon-worthy abs clad in a tight dark grey t-shirt that opened up into a small V shape at the top, accentuating that swan-like neck. That _delectable_ Deflect rune contouring his strong jaw line in the most delicious, mouth watering, way that made him want to sink his teeth into him and _claim_ him. He moved his slow gaze up to the Nephilim's heart-stopping face that would have inspired Michelangelo to paint something _far_ more impressive than the Sistine chapel. Now it was free from injury, that face was hitting Magnus at full force with its sheer, impossible, beauty. It was a face that wars were started over, fought over, a face that could bring him willingly to his knees; literally and metaphorically.

"...I'd _much_ rather coax what I desire out of _you_ my beautiful Angel."

Magnus simpered at Alec, making him blush hotly and squirm in his seat with renewed vigour. _Hmm_ , the Shadowhunter did seem to have a thing for Magnus' voice, he was _definitely_ going to use that to his advantage.

"But don't worry, Angel, my methods are far more... _pleasurable_...than what you've experienced previously, and if you truly feel uncomfortable with anything that we do here and ask me to stop, I'll stop. But something tells me you're going to enjoy our time together _very_ much; very much indeed. " Magnus' voice was laced and dripping with sex and promises. 

Alec gulped audibly, his mouth gone bone dry, tension and enflamed arousal coiling hot and tight inside him at Magnus' bold words and the sexual intent he heard in that _goddamn_ voice. This had taken a _very_ unexpected turn, and Alec was not sure how to handle it, how to handle _him_.

Magnus, all previous caution and tentativeness gone, brazenly got into Alec's personal space and then _straddled_ him in the luxuriously large armchair. His knees finding their places to rest on either side of Alec's slender hips, the sinful curve of Magnus' toned ass resting back on Alec's strong, yet slightly shaking, upper thighs.

Alec nearly jumped in the air at the unexpected new position he so swiftly found himself in, with Magnus shamelessly getting himself comfortable on top of him. He was finding it exceedingly difficult to breathe or think clearly with Magnus so close to him, feeling him press against his own body _everywhere_. Unsure of what to do with his hands Alec simply gripped the edges of the arm chair in a vice grip, making his knuckles go white with the effort, desperately trying to ground himself and remain in control. He did not trust his own reactions around Magnus. _Fuck_ was he gorgeous, and up this close he could count each individual mascara-coated eyelash, feel his warm breath tickling Alec's chest hairs that peeked out just above the v-neckline of his shirt. Those cat eyes up close were captivating, they _demanded_ his attention. He couldn't look away even if he wanted to; noting that the pupils had become larger, more rounded with Magnus' apparently mutual arousal.

Alec breathed raggedly at their proximity, sitting back as far as he could and pushing himself into the back of the armchair to keep some hint of distance between them. His eyes kept flickering traitorously to Magnus' lips, they looked so plump and soft and inviting that it stoked a desire in Alec to bite down on them. Magnus hadn't even _done anything_ to him yet but simply sit atop him and look at him suggestively, but already Alec could feel his dick twitch aggressively with interest inside his pants; felt it slowly beginning to swell and fill with blood. 

_Oh God_...He was _so_ fucked.


	4. Love In all It's Beautiful and Mysterious Forms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shameless smut with intense feelings. Not much more to say XD

Sweat began to bead at the sides of Alec's forehead and trickled down his lower back at the strain it took for him to hold himself back from claiming the lips of the gorgeous male Warlock currently situated happily in his lap with his own. Magnus was sitting prettily, preening and looking positively smug; polar oppositely relaxed and enjoying himself immensely at Alec's expense. 

"Magnus." Alec breathed out through a tightly clenched jaw, horrified to find his own voice had come out as a low desperate whine.

Magnus only smirked wider in amused pleasure and arousal at the sound. Alec sounded absolutely _wreaked_ and husky, the tight coiled tension in his restraint practically emitting a heat source of its own. There was just something about such a powerful being clearly trying to hold himself back, and barely managing it because of Magnus, that was _exhilarating_ to the Warlock. It fed into his own heated desire building up rapidly inside, and he wasn't going to lie, it made his ego purr in delight. 

"Hush now...just relax my Darling. Remember we can stop any of this any time you want, ok? Just say the word. All I want you to do is just sit back and let yourself enjoy what I do to you."

Alec nodded slowly, dumbly, his understanding; looking up at Magnus with his eyes hooded, pupils blown impossibly wide.

"Yeah-h, Oo-ok." He breathed out shakily.

Alec had a vague notion in the back of his mind that maybe he shouldn't be wanting this, maybe he should be stopping what was happening, or about to happen. But he found he didn't want to and he was starting to lose his ability to care about what he should or shouldn't want. That nagging voice in his head getting quieter the longer he looked at Magnus and started imagining with anticipation, and with a little bit of excitable fear, what Magnus was going to do to him. He realised with an inner curse that he _really_ wanted to find out.

"Hmm," Magnus nodded back, humming in smug approval at Alec's consented agreement. He was clearly aware of the effect he had on Alec, and was seemingly feeling rather proud of himself. Magnus rocked forward shifting his weight more onto his knees, but still remaining securely in Alec's lap to bring himself even closer to the Nephilim, their clothed chests and half-hard cocks brushing lightly and briefly together, making both men moan out loud. Magnus' silk-soft lips and hot breath grazed barely, teasingly, over the top outer edge of Alec's left ear; It made a shiver trail all the way down Alec's spine, a soft helplessly aroused groan falling unchecked from his lips. He gripped the armchair even tighter, planting his feet wide, desperately trying to steady himself somehow.

Magnus smiled with triumphant pride to himself, tilting his head back a little to look at the Shadowhunter's response, his beautiful eyes closed, showcasing the dark fan of his pretty lashes against his perfect moonlight pale cheeks, clearly struggling to keep his breathing under control. It was a heady feeling having one of the Nephilim with all their angelic power be completely at his mercy like this, and so clearly turned on by so little effort from him. Magnus brought his lips back up to Alec's ear, knowing the combination of his voice and the brazen words he was about whisper into the Nephilim's ear would drive him a little wild with desire.

"Oh Darling, _look. at. you_. So gorgeously aroused and wanton for me and we haven't even _started_ yet." Magnus teased.

He began running his painted finger tips lightly down the Shadowhunter's broad shoulders, skimming the solid collar bones at the base of his graceful neck, and down over his Adonis-like chest; lamenting that the t-shirt he wore was in the way of him being able to fully see and appreciate what lay just underneath. But they had time for that, Magnus reminded himself, he wasn't going to rush the Nephilim, not whilst he was clearly so inexperienced, if his reactions to his slightest touch was anything to go by. Plus he was hardly unaffected himself by the beautiful creature below him, he was going to savour unravelling this heaven sent man, and in doing so keep his own sanity and desire in check. Little did he know that this particular Nephilim would affect him in ways that threw that centuries honed control right out the proverbial window as it waved good 'Bi'. 

" _H'Ohh_ God." Alec whimpered out, all embarrassment gone and overridden by his almost painful _want_ for Magnus, and what his incredible sexy voice and barely there touches were doing to him.

Alec looked up doe-eyed and amazed at Magnus, the Warlock hovering over him in all his glittering beauty. The moment they made eye contact the tension in the room cranked up almost unbearably. Both of them breathing a little hard, clearly wanting one another... _badly_. Alec could feel his heart hammer faster and harder against his rib cage the longer the moment drew out, staring at each other with a raw, heated hunger. 

The heat and tension between them coiled and spun higher and higher, fraying Alec's nerves to the point of snapping. He didn't know who moved first, but all of a sudden they were a blurred fury of hot, yielding, devouring mouths, twinning wet velvet tongues, stifled wanton moans, and clashing desperate teeth that only spurred them hotter and higher into their frenzied kiss. Hands roamed and explored everywhere; Magnus delighting in every new plane of battle hardened muscle he discovered under his wandering fingers, a hint of tingling magic flowing untamed from the tips like his magic needed to touch the Shadowhunter just as badly as he did.

Alec's own hands had released the arms of his plush chair, running up over Magnus' toned thighs, tentatively over the perfect curve of his ass, up his narrow hips, coming to rest his heated palms on Magnus' lower back pulling the Warlock forward in his lap, clutching him tightly to his solid torso in a desperation to get closer, to almost merge his body with the gorgeous Warlock's.

Their passionate kiss and need for oxygen reached a crescendo as they tore their mouths apart, panting heavily, foreheads still touching. Magnus' lightly stubbled cheek grazed softly against Alec's own smooth one, feeling Magnus' breathe against his ear again as he huffed out;

"Oh _Darling..._ the things I want to do to you." He chuckled softly, lustfully, _darkly_.

It was so masculine and sexual it made Alec's cock throb with a hot spike of arousal, blood pooling heavier between his thighs as he became even harder in his pants, the fabric getting uncomfortably tight and starting to rub a little roughly over the feverishly sensitive skin. The friction of the fabric was delicious, but it wasn't enough, he needed _more_.

He lifted his head up about to communicate this to Magnus, when the dawning realisation struck him that his cock was now pressing right up against Magnus' ass, that Magnus could probably feel his hard dick straining and pulsing underneath him; It made Alec stop breathing altogether for a few seconds. He could feel the line of Magnus' own clothed erection laying heavily between their stomachs. All that separated Alec's cock from Magnus' bare ass, and feeling his equally impressively sized cock against his naked skin, was a mere few layers of fabric.... _'God_ , _Fuck'_... this was everything he'd ever secretly dreamed of, everything he'd ever fantasized about being with another man. But even in his wildest fantasies he could never have conjured up someone as unbelievably gorgeous and impossibly tantalising as Magnus Bane.

Magnus leaned down and gently claimed the half angel's full lips again, unable to deny himself the addicting taste of him. He continued kissing across his pale cheek, and up the curve of the Nephilim's jaw line. His warm, moist tongue peaking out and licking long, teasingly slow stripes down that sinful deflect rune, following the line of his neck, sucking the occasional bruise into it to mark the Nephilim as his own. All the while drawing long low groans and deep grounding breathes from the inexperienced Shadowhunter.

Magnus' magic-warm palms ran back up Alec's sculpted chest and slowly, almost absentmindedly, Magnus' elegantly painted thumb nails scraped ever-so lightly over Alec's nipples through his thin cotton shirt. The reaction to that barely there touch was instantaneous and unexpected for both men. Electricity surged through Alec's body, pleasure short-circuiting his brain and eliciting an upward jolt so strong it was almost violent. A choked and helplessly lustful gasp tore from Alec's throat, followed by the filthiest and loudest moan he had ever made to date as Magnus, spurred into action, persistently circled and flicked over the extremely sensitive buds that were raising up in response; as if to follow the wickedly good touch. Alec's hands moved of their own accord and grasped tightly at Magnus' hips. His fingertips digging into the soft skin there in response to the unexpected, _incredible_ , stimulation he was getting. His eyes rolled back into his skull, jaw slackened open, his head involuntarily falling back against the top of the armchair. _Fuck_. He'd had no idea he was so _sensitive_ there. He briefly wondered if Magnus was using magic to make it feel so much more intense then he thought it should. He'd never felt anything like this. Never felt so fucking _good_ in all his life.

As Magnus continued his remorseless ministrations - now adding another element into the deliciously stimulating mix by ever-so lightly twisting at the delicate nubs between his thumb and forefinger in short repetitive bursts - Alec's hips started bucking up, moving of their own volition, his cock desperately seeking out friction against Magnus' perfect ass. His panting was getting more and more erratic. Huffing out heavy, sharp breaths every time Magnus rolled his nipples between his skilful digits. His brow was furrowed deeply and sweating in effort, eyes firmly closed and squeezing even tighter shut in tandem with each spark of pleasure that shot from his nipples all the way down to his straining dick.

" _Fuck,_ Darling. You're _unbelievably_ sensitive...So _gorgeous_ in your pleasure." Cooed Magnus breathlessly, amazed by the Nephilim's reaction. Hot flames of lust licked low, almost unbearably, in his abdomen at sight of him. Hearing the dirty, _sinful_ moans and whimpers of pleasure, and the overwhelmed and breathy exclaims of " _Oh God, Magnus. Magnus, please!_ " pouring from the Shadowhunter's mouth was like sweet music to his ears.

Magnus continued his ministrations relentlessly on Alec's sensitive buds, his thumbs and fingers grazing, twisting, flicking, and rubbing in sync; the Shadowhunter beneath him a panting, writhing, sweaty mess. He set himself a silent goal, resolved and determined to bring the half angel to orgasm this way, to making him come _hard_ with barely any other stimulation.

But as he looked up briefly from his new self-appointed task of making this Nephilim fall helplessly apart just by a few husky words in his ear and nipple play alone, he saw the Shadowhunter in all his beautifully uninhibited glory, and couldn't help but stare in awe... It made his heart stop, his very breathe snatched from his lungs and he seized to function, completely frozen up. He gasped and sucked in a harsh jagged breath in response to a sharp arrow-like impact striking his heart gloriously, immediately followed by an intense rush of affection, tenderness, and impossible warmth towards this Nephilim. It felt like a tightly locked box of sunlight had just burst open in his very chest and was shining resplendently, burning and chasing away all the dark shadows and cobwebs inside of him that had built up around his heart over the last century. Dormant and almost ancient feelings welled up with fervour, coupled with an unexpected bone-deep ache of _want_.

_Dear God..._ he may have just fallen in love with this Angel, and he didn't even know his name.

A breathless, "Oh," was all that fell from Magnus lips in response to his sudden explosion of emotion and feelings. Too overwhelmed to utter anything else. He hadn't even realised he'd uttered anything at all. He swallowed hard, his eyes radiating terror and elation simultaneously at the unexpected reactions of his own heart. It was like he'd just been awakened from a hazy slumber that had been the past 100 years of his life; when he had shut himself off from the agonising emotional hurt of rejection and betrayal, but also in turn closed himself to the sheer, raw, unrelenting and all consuming beauty of love. 

Alec forced opened his scrunched up eyes to look up at Magnus as he felt him stop working him over in that torturously pleasurable way and heard himself gasp at the sight of Magnus before him. He was more than a little shocked to see in Magnus' stunning eyes such a vulnerability mixed in with lingering affection and arousal; all directed towards himself. It truly surprised him, to see a centuries old Warlock appear overwhelmed by his own emotions, enflamed and awakened by a virginal male Nephilim of all people. 

" _Please_....tell me your name, Angel. I need to know."

Magnus begged of him, barely above a whisper. His eyes imploring, desperate to know this man who had unlocked him. Aching to hear the name that he knew without doubt would be the one he would reach the heights of dizzying pleasure screaming to, the name he would put to the face he would day-dream dazedly about every day as his thoughts would inevitably stray again and again to the beautiful Nephilim.

It briefly registered in the back of his mind that the Shadowhunter may not answer him; thinking that it was a trick to find out who he was. Although, despite what his intentions had started out to begin with, this was not trick, and Magnus honestly, desperately wanted to know his name. 

However, he couldn't deny that he probably would use that name to find out more about him for less than pure and romantic purposes. A small feeling of shame rose up in him at that, but he pushed himself to think about his people again and it subsided forcefully. 

He would not, could not, hurt this Nephilim regardless of what information he got from him, he would not use it against him for pain or blackmail, but he would absolutely use it for the gain of the Downworld to protect innocent lives.

To his surprise, and unbridled delight, the Nephilim answered him.

"A-Alec Lightwood," Alec stuttered out, just as quietly as the heartfelt request made of him was. It felt so simple to give Magnus what he clearly so simply but desperately wanted, to make him happy, and Alec found himself very eager to want to please him and bring out that happiness.

That quiet, fragile, gentle moment settled over both of them again as it had before. A quiet moment of understanding and budding mutual affection, both unaware of what was going on between them, but magnetically and undeniably drawn to one another; a silently agreed hush between their souls. 

"Is that short for 'Alexander', perhaps?" Magnus coupled his soft words with a slow tender stroke of his delicate fingers through Alec's raven, passion-tousled, hair.

"Yeah," Alec affirmed, and his breathe caught again helplessly when it caused Magnus' to smile. Brightening up his whole, already glittering, face to the blinding megawatt glow of sunlight. His heart stopped for a full 4 seconds before it rapidly thundered against his chest, as if it was trying to make up for the missing heartbeats, pouring warmth and tenderness out of him and throughout his whole body. It was...God, he couldn't even _describe_ that feeling. ' _Whoa, Magnus may just be bad for my health.'_ He thought idly.

"Hmm, absolutely _gorgeous_...A beautiful name for an equally beautiful man...Oh, _Alexander_. Where have you been all my life, darling?"

Magnus broke the quiet moment and the palpable sexual tension between them as he surged forward to kiss beautiful _'Alexander'_ soundly on his perfect mouth, fingers gripping and tangling into his thick black hair and tugging at it in his need to devour Alec and show him a fragment of how he'd just made him feel.

Alec's response to Magnus' gorgeous voice uttering his full name and kissing him _like_ _that_ was close to a religious experience. He felt like he was unworthy to hear this celestial-like being speak his name, and yet hearing it come from Magnus' lips made it sound like it was something powerful, like an evoking of magic in a powerful ritual. He'd made it sound like something to be revered and decadently savoured when spoken. It made a delighted and aroused thrill shiver all the way along the length of his spine from the back of his neck to the base of nerves at his lower back.

"Magnus" Alec gasped as he pulled back from their fevered kiss enough to voice his deep want for the glittery Warlock, "I want...I-I need,"

"What darling? What do you need? Tell me my beautiful boy, and I'll give it to you...I'll give you _anything_."

Magnus was certainly not one to be so casually willing to promise the world and all the powers he had to wield to gift it to just anyone, particularly not for a _Shadowhunter_ despite his run-ins with them in the past. But for Alexander... _Ohh for_ _Alexander_ ... well he knew now that he'd give just about anything within his power that he could if it would only make Alec smile at him and make Magnus feel alive and awake again.

"You...You Magnus....I need _you_..All of you, I... Oh _Please"_ Alec begged wantonly, never wanting or needing something or someone so much before in his entire life. He wanted whatever the warlock had to offer him and could only hope that he could even so much as match a fraction of that gift in return.

Magnus smiled softly, tenderly in response to Alec's beautifully simple and blunt honesty. He was truly a rare creature indeed, and all Warlocks knew that to find anything that was either new or rare, (and Lilith help them if that something/someone was both of those things), was highly prized and intoxicatingly exciting. Magnus had a strong hunch that Alexander Lightwood was both... and that he would be his utter undoing.

"Oh Darling, I believe you already have me," Magnus admitted barely above a whisper, hovering his kiss bitten lips just above Alec's own; whether poised to submit to or take from Alec he wasn't sure. Probably both.

Magnus captured Alec's lips in a deep bruising kiss once more, swiping his devilish tongue over the full swell of Alec's lushly plump bottom lip, demanding entrance to the heavenly warm and moist cavern that was his mouth. Alec moaned deep in his throat in response, rumbling through his chest as he opened up for Magnus eagerly. Magnus wasted no time licking into Alec's mouth, twining their tongues together in a rhythmic and feral dance of dominance and sexual desire. They occasionally sucked at each other's tongues and lips, both panting gasps of desperate air into their lungs in heated intervals.

Magnus dove back in with his clever fingers, playing and plucking at Alec's sensitive, arousal swollen nipples like he was tuning a delicate instrument, driving Alec to dizzying heights of pleasure and making him feel a wildness he'd never experienced before, making his heart beat madly against his ribcage. Whines and whimpers of pleasure and whispered prayers of Magnus' name torn helplessly from the back of his throat. The sounds made Magnus equally desperate and needy, heat flooding his abdomen and pleasure tingling and shivering up his spine at the Nephilim's obvious enjoyment of Magnus' touches on his glorious body.

Alec's engorged cock twitched aggressively in his pants at every delicate brush and rough twist of his delicate buds, blurts of pre-cum rhythmically leaking from the slit, soaking the front of his pants.

Magnus upon noticing this groaned at the sinful feeling of wetness below him through both layers of their still clothed lower bodies. The debauched sight of Alec like this helplessly turned him on and caused him to ache for Alec with a want he'd not expected or experienced with any of his previous lovers.

It sent the warlock into a frenzied overdrive as he released Alec's deliciously abused nubs and forcefully tore himself away from his wonderful mouth in favour of raising up further on his knees to access Alec's pre-cum soaked pants. Tearing rabidly at the button and harshly yanking down zipper, quickly releasing Alec's gorgeously swollen and full dick from its confines. Tucking his boxers under Alec's balls to expose him fully, his cock bobbed in the air. It stood proud and beautiful as he uncovered it and made Magnus' mouth water with a hungry lustful need.

But before Magnus could do any number of the things he wanted to do with and to Alec's gorgeous cock, he was taken by abrupt surprise when Alec tore open and tugged down Magnus own pants, bearing his blood filled cock and curved taut ass to the chilled air of the room. Magnus had barely registered the sudden pleasure of the temperature change hitting his fevered skin and the release of his dick from the tight fabric when Alec proceeded to grasp Magnus bare hips, pulling him flush against Alec's still shirt clad torso. His large masculine hands finding their way to grip at Magnus gorgeously bare ass with his long deliciously callous roughened fingers.

Magnus was wholly unprepared but utterly enthralled when this beautiful virginal Nephilim man suddenly started gliding his perfect and pre-cum slicked dick between the smooth and clear cut space between his ass cheeks. Rubbing up and down as Alec bounced and rocked Magnus hips back and forth, squeezing the tight muscled cheeks together so that it made a frankly filthily wet sounding slide over Alec's cock, stroking himself shamelessly between the valley of Magnus' glorious ass. Magnus' muscles contracted now and again to squeeze tighter, making Alec gasp harshly, his breathe stuttering at the tightness and perfect pressure around his cock.

"Oh Alexander, you're perfect... Taking your pleasure like this darling. Oh!... so gorgeous, so lovely... Feels so _good_ , darling" Magnus whispered hotly into Alec's ear, knowing his voice and the words would drive Alec even higher, pushing him closer to subspace and the height of his pleasure.

Alec groaned loudly in response and gasped out in kind,

'oh god! Oohhhh... _Magnus_!... God you feel amazing, S-so good.. So _soo_ good! Never felt anything like this before... Never felt this _good_ before.... Oh-my-god, Ahhh, M- _magnus_."

Alec's head rolled back against the chair behind him once more, losing himself in the powerful and deliriously good strokes of Magnus' ass cheeks clasped and clenching tightly around his cock. Dragging back his foreskin as he pushed down and squeezing deliciously at the head of his dick on the way up.

He loved the sudden hitched gasps of Magnus' breathe and the lustful glow of his cat eyes as the head of Alec's cock caught and flicked occasionally over the tight rim of Magnus' asshole, driving them both wild for each other.

Alec locked eyes with Magnus as he brought one callous roughened hand from Magnus' ass to wrap with perfect pressure around Magnus' own leaking cock. Stroking up and down his beautiful solid shaft, swiping the darkened slit with the pad of his thumb to collect and spread the pre-cum collecting there. Magnus whimpered and panted, never tearing his gaze away from Alec's beautiful hazel eyes, pupils blown in a way he was certain reflected in his own.

" _Alexander_..." he breathed out in a desperate hissed whisper. His head started to roll back as the almost painful pressure building behind his cock started to tease at an impending crescendo. He wouldn't last much longer like this, not with Alec's hand stroking and stimulating his dick so wonderfully and Alec's own cock rubbing and grazing over his pre-cum slicked rim. The duel sensations driving his body absolutely crazy.

He knew Alec wasn't going to last long either, feeling the throbbing cock between his cheeks start to jut up in sharp spasms that lost any sense of rhythm in favour of needily chasing the encroaching orgasm he could feel was close to erupting from the Nephilim below him.

Alec's breathes had become ragged and erratic, interspersed with high pitched helpless whimpers of pleasure, so close to his orgasm he could practically taste it.

Magnus knew Alec didn't need much to push him over the edge. He caught Alec's eyes with his own again and smiled devilishly at him knowing exactly what he needed to drive him to spill the contents of his heat fevered dick.

Alec knew he was in deep trouble the moment he caught that feral feline smirk on Magnus' features. He was so goddamn close. He knew whatever Magnus was about to do would make him positively _explode_.

"Let go darling, let go... Let me see you, let me watch how gorgeous you are as you erupt and cum absolutely _everywhere_. I want you to coat my ass in your cum and feel it's wet heat drip down between my cheeks and over my greedy asshole...Please darling, do it for me... Come on my beautiful boy... Cum Alexander. _Cum_!" Magnus whispered harshly and hotly in Alec's ear for the final time, and that was all it took to send Alec flying over the edge.

"OH _GOD_ , MAGNUS! " Alec screamed out his unbelievably intense orgasm, spurting up hot white cum in harsh intervals from his engorged cock, his cum doing exactly what Magnus had described and dribbling down between Magnus' cock chafed ass cheeks, only making it all the hotter.

Alec sped up his pumping hand over Magnus' cock, frantically jerking him into a blissful oblivion. Magnus shortly went careening over the edge with a punched out shout of Alec's name. Shooting up from his dick and coating liberally the front of Alec's shirt in his own cum. Alec groaned approvingly and helplessly turned on at the sight, positively drunk on post orgasmic pleasure and lingering arousal.

Gradually their breathes and pants evened out enough for them to lock eyes, lean into each other and bestow slow, gentle and saliva slick kisses on each other's lips. Tongues brushing now and again, almost lovingly. Alec's arms wrapped securely around Magnus' waist pulling him in close, neither caring about the cum on Alec's shirt smearing between their still clothed, sweat damp chests. They grinned manically at each other, noses grazing affectionately. Adrenaline fuelled, giddy, breathless laughs mingling between them.

"...Wow." Breathed an utterly spent Alec.


End file.
